


You're Either In Or You're Out

by betheproof



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fashion & Couture, Hate to Love, M/M, Project Runway AU, although it's never really hate, just stupid boys being stupid, terribly cliched
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheproof/pseuds/betheproof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Louis' tone is maybe a bit harsher than necessary, but he still stinging from the suggestion that he was staring at Harry. Sure, the way his legs are encased in those skinny jeans is mildly intriguing. But Louis is here to be the next Top Designer, and he'll be damned if he lets a pretty boy with a sinful mouth get in the way of his dream. Especially if that sinful mouth is spewing phrases like bohemian pantsuit. Honestly.</em> </p><p>Or the one where Louis tries out for Project Runway, Harry is his stupidly gorgeous competitor, Liam is Tim Gunn, Zayn is the supermodel host, and Niall is the guest judge who knows nothing about fashion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Either In Or You're Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [incandescentlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/incandescentlight/gifts).



> Hopefully this fulfills your need for a fashion AU!
> 
> Huge thanks to my lovely beta [Megan](http://www.iwontseecadyagain.tumblr.com) who forced me to do this fic exchange and who also served as my moral support during my first H/L writing experience. You're a gem.
> 
> Blanket disclaimer: obviously, none of this is fact, just figments of my overactive imagination, blah blah blah. Also, any inconsistencies with the timeline of the show are purely my fault. And if it isn't obvious, I know nothing about fashion either.

There are fifteen other designers on this roof, and Louis is currently suppressing the urge to throw at least six of them off the edge.

It isn't that he _hates_ them, per se. It's just that winning Project Runway has been his dream ever since Lottie made him watch reruns with her and begged him to try out. A few years, a degree from London College of Fashion, and a transatlantic move later, Louis is finally here: twenty-four and onto his third audition attempt, and all he can think about is getting to New York Fashion Week and leaving this whole band of misfits behind in the dust.

And what a band of misfits it is. As he sips his champagne in what he hopes is a seductive yet intimidating manner, he surveys the competition. Most of them Louis dismisses immediately in his mind, deeming them too kooky, too ambitious, or too insert-other-adjective-here to ever make it to the top.

There are a few, however, that he should probably look out for. There's Perrie with the purple hair and an affinity for flower crowns; her bubbly personality and ability to combine leather and tulle in an outfit immediately endeared her to Louis. She might be one of the few designers that could match his level of talent while simultaneously serve as an ally. Then there's Nick with the hawk eyes and the tailored blazer that strongly suggest an eye for detail. Eleanor may be soft-spoken and delicate, but those nimble fingers can probably work wonders with a machine, and Caroline gives off that beautiful/intelligent vibe that will certainly prove lethal.

Then there's Harry Styles. A ridiculous name for an equally ridiculous person. He only really speaks when spoken to, but once he gets started, he'll start rambling about _sustainable fabric_ and _natural dye processes_ in that syrupy rasp. He's six feet tall, only has three buttons done up on his shirt, and is wearing a fedora, for God's sake.

Louis hates him on principle.

"You know, undressing the other designers with your eyes is probably frowned upon." Perrie's tinkling voice comes out of nowhere, and Louis is so startled that he chokes on his champagne. So much for seductive yet intimidating. The spluttering that ensues from Louis' mouth is only half due to the aforementioned choking, but Perrie puts up her hands in surrender amid his vehement coughs and denials. "Not to worry, love, I'm not judging. As long as I get to keep Zayn Malik for myself," she adds with a wink, and it's that cheekiness that allows Louis to finally recover.

"Pretty sure he's got something going on with Liam Payne," he retorts. His tone is maybe a bit harsher than necessary, but he's still stinging from the suggestion that he was staring at Harry. Sure, the way his legs are encased in those skinny jeans is mildly intriguing. But Louis is here to be the next Top Designer, and he'll be damned if he lets a pretty boy with a sinful mouth get in the way of his dream. Especially if that sinful mouth is spewing phrases like _bohemian pantsuit._ Honestly.

Instead of balking at Louis' snark, Perrie takes it in stride, and Louis is grateful that he hasn't manage to alienate absolutely everyone yet. He didn't come here to make friends, but it will be nice to have an ally in the workroom.  

All at once, the real Zayn Malik and Liam Payne make an appearance as host and mentor respectively. A ripple of excitement surges through the group of designers, and when he sees Liam's hand resting gently on Zayn's back, Louis silently raises his eyebrows at Perrie. She makes a face as if to say, _So what? I still have a chance,_ and Louis has to bite back a laugh.

 As he launches into a speech, Liam is as warm and welcoming as he appears on television, while Zayn smolders by his side. They welcome the designers to the competition, and assure them that the next few weeks will be the most grueling experience of their lives. There's a toast and some words of advice, but it's all a bit blurry to Louis as the nerves settle deep in his stomach. His entire career is on the line, and he wants so badly to be the last one standing. In an attempt to calm himself down, Louis sweeps his gaze across the group once more, only to find Harry already staring back. He is standing several feet away, yet Louis can still make out the exact shade of his eyes as they examine Louis curiously. Apparently he approves because he raises his glass in salute, a gentle smirk playing on his lips.

"You're staring again," Perrie sings out behind him, and since he can't deny it, Louis does what he knows best and shrugs it off with humor.

"Just appreciating the view while I still can," Louis quips, forcing himself to look away. "Stupid, pretty hipster boys can't last long, Pez, you know how it is."

Thankfully, Perrie lets that one go, and if Louis happens to look over at Harry several more times as the evening wears on, well. He's only sizing up the competition, of course.

**First Challenge**

"Right, so all the other designers are panicking because we only have until midnight tonight to make a red carpet look. Meanwhile, I'm just remembering the time my sister ripped her dress trying it on the morning of her spring formal, and I had to sew her a new one in less than eight hours. So I figure I'll be okay."

At first, Louis is worried about the solo interviews because as much as he likes to entertain, he does much better when he can actually see his audience. But it turns out that Louis is good at talking (go figure) and once he gets used to the blinding lights pointed straight at him, he can pretty much spew whatever. He doesn't even try to be charming, but the crew seems to like his wit. It could just be the accent, though. It's always the accent over here.

As he finishes up, he catches sight of curls and a sheepish smile peeking in from the doorway.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Erm. They told me they were ready for me?" And of course it's Harry and of course he's an angel who still manages to make Louis' blood boil just by being his lovely self. Shaking his head, he tries not to let his distaste show on his face.

"No, it's all good, mate. I was just finishing anyway," Louis tells him with a tight smile and fuck if Harry doesn't return it tenfold. Biting back whatever sarcastic thing is threatening to spill out, Louis walks out of the room.

In his attempt to make a clean getaway, he ends up crashing into a very warm, very solid body. Harry immediately launches into a litany of apologies, and Louis is a little endeared and a lot annoyed. He'd think the kid was doing it on purpose had it not occurred at least ten times earlier with multiple other people, Louis included. It seems that Harry just doesn't have much control over those gangly limbs of his, as evidenced earlier during their first trip to Mood.

After Liam gave them their first challenge (make a gown that's red-carpet ready by the end of the day), he took the sixteen of them to get fabric. Walking into the store was another surreal moment for Louis, and he gripped his sketch pad to his chest. Of course, the awe quickly faded when Liam gave them twenty minutes to find their fabrics and check out. With his money and sketch pad in tow, Louis ran straight for the tulle and satin. Running up and down the aisle a few times, he finally chose his fabrics in a silvery-lilac color scheme. He bounced on his feet the whole time they were being cut, and as soon as they were finished, he grabbed them and headed off to find closures for his dress. Grabbing a few options, he glanced at his watch and saw that he had three minutes to spare. Brilliant. Priding himself on timeliness for once in his life, he turned to head leisurely to the checkout.

That was the moment when Harry barreled right into him and sent them both crashing to the ground, scattering both of their armfuls across the floor.

"Oh fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't—" The sheer horror on Harry's face right then might have been comical had the situation not been so tense. As it was, Louis waved him off in favor of picking up his things. Suddenly, another pair of hands joined him in doing so, and Louis glanced up, startled.

Harry looked confused at Louis' reaction. "What?"

Louis raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Most competitors would've just picked up their own stuff and run," he said. Who was this kid, and why was he being so nice?

Harry shrugged. "I made you drop everything, it's only fair." He sounded so matter-of-fact, and Louis felt equal amounts of exasperation and awe at the boy's apparent chivalry. Shaking his head, Louis returned to the task at hand, and as soon as each had finished picking everything up, Liam yelled "Time's up!" from somewhere near the front of the store. With his armful of merchandise, Louis struggled to stand up, until he felt a hand on his elbow bringing him to his feet. Once again, he gave Harry a questioning look, but Harry merely winked this time before turning away to head to the checkout counter. 

(And if Louis is a bit dumbfounded, he only takes a few extra seconds to recover. Maybe twenty, at the absolute highest.)

But of course, it seems that was the first of many such encounters, as Louis once again finds himself much closer to Harry Styles than he ever intended to be.

"Guess I'm just destined to bump into you, huh?" If possible, Harry grins even wider, and Louis wonders if maybe he somehow saw the scene that just replayed in his own mind, because the idea that their thoughts were so in-synch frankly freaks Louis out.

"I guess so," Louis manages to reply, and exits the room hurriedly before Harry can see whatever expression he has on his face.

He returns to his workspace with a weird feeling he can't quite name buzzing in his brain. Fiddling with the dress form, he starts draping his fabric, mumbling absent-mindedly about "dirty hipster Styles with the two left feet." Somewhere nearby, he hears a snort, and he whips his head around toward Perrie's neighboring table.

"Something you want to share with the class there, love?" he asks a bit scathingly, but it doesn’t deter the amusement in her eyes as she looks up from her own garment.

"Dirty hipster, Lou? Really?" Perrie shakes her head in mock disappointment, and although he sticks out his tongue in protest, Louis can't help but laugh. He turns back around to continue pinning the satin, though he can still feel Perrie's gaze on him.

"I can practically hear you smirking, Perrie, get back to work. You're distracting me!" As he settles into his task, Louis thinks he hears her say, "I reckon I'm not your only distraction," but lets it go only because it's two o'clock and he has yet to start sewing. After all, Louis has a challenge to win, and he isn't about to let a purple-haired fairy and an infuriatingly cute fruitcake take his eyes away from the prize.

xx

A few hours later, Louis passes Harry's table on the way back from the sewing room. He wasn't going to stop, except that he hears Nick chastising the younger lad.

"How on earth do you forget to buy a zipper, Harold?" Louis tenses at the hint of a sneer on Nick's face. Where does he get off yelling at Harry, and whoa, where did that protective streak come from?

Harry, of course, doesn't even defend himself. He merely shuffles his feet and says, "I got a bit tied up," before casting a furtive glance at Louis. Shock makes its way through Louis's system. Is Harry actually suggesting that, instead of using precious time to buy necessary supplies, he helped Louis instead?

Damn it all to hell.

"Styles, if you really need a zipper, I have an extra one that I won't use." The words are out of Louis' mouth before he can stop them. Nick's eyebrows climb to impossible heights on that already large forehead, a feat that Louis actively ignores. Much like he does with Nick in general, so no surprises there. Meanwhile, Harry merely looks surprised and more than a little pleased.

"Yeah, that—I mean, if you don't mind. That'd be brilliant, actually," he says gratefully, and oh good God, he has dimples. To stop himself from staring, Louis returns to his workspace with Harry following close behind. He rummages around until he finds the zipper, which he then presents to Harry,  who may or may not be blushing. "You don't have to do this, you know," he tells Louis, who laughs in spite of himself.

"To be fair, I'm the reason you didn't get one in the first place," he reminds the boy. "Let's call it even and leave it at that."

Harry nods enthusiastically, and God, he's so _earnest._ "Thanks, Lou," he nearly whispers, and Louis didn't realize they were at nickname status already, but before the inevitable snide comment slips out, Harry returns to his own table. Louis has no choice but to go back to his dress, still unsure over what exactly possessed him to help Harry out. (It's not because he's pretty, it's _not._ ) 

xx

Runway day dawns bright, and Louis is feeling pretty confident overall. He's wearing his trusty suspenders and he knows his dress is beautiful. Liam told him so yesterday during the critique, and even though Liam doesn't have a mean bone in his body, he is always honest. In the flurry of activity, Louis is one of the few whose garment is completely finished. All in all, he's feeling good about today.

Soon, Liam is calling everybody to attention and asking them to line up for the runway. The models are taken backstage and the designers are all shuffled into their chairs. Zayn comes out to greet them and remind them that, at any given moment, they could be in or out. Louis is too excited for the actual show to pay much attention even to their supermodel host, and he breathes a sigh of relief when the show starts.

As the designs walk down the runway, Louis tries to remember who made what. Perrie's is easy to spot: her model is practically a cloned version of the girl sitting next to him, and he reaches over to squeeze her hand and convey his approval. Then comes Louis' dress, and he can't decide whether to look at the judges or just focus on his model walking down the runway. He compromises by following the dress's movement down the runway, then peeking over as his model poses at the end. He knows it's their job to look impassive, but Louis catches a gleam in Cheryl Cole's eye, and even as he writes on his notecard, Simon Cowell looks fairly impressed. It's Perrie's turn to squeeze Louis' hand, and she even whispers a "well done, Lou" before his model disappears backstage. Louis can't stop beaming.

All of a sudden, the show is over, and Louis finds himself in front of the judges amongst those designers with the highest and lowest scores. Zayn glances at him with those whiskey eyes, and even though they haven't declared exactly who is in the top three, Louis can tell from the warmth in his gaze where his fate lies. Nevertheless, he remains silent until he is addressed.

"Alright, Louis," Zayn prompts. "Tell us about your garment."

"Well, I worked in bridal when I first started out in fashion, so I'm fairly used to whipping gowns out in a pinch. I wanted to reference those roots, which is why I chose this lighter color palette, and then I kept the silhouette fairly simple to let the details on the dress shine through." Louis isn't entirely sure where that explanation came from. He doesn't usually have to give the back story for his designs, but he's just glad he could form coherent sentences and didn't faint in front of the panel. He holds his breath while the judges weigh in.

Cheryl goes first, praising Louis on his craftsmanship. "You managed to do a lot in the little amount of time that was given, which is quite impressive. And you know, from the tattoos, I never would've guessed this was your aesthetic," she jokes, "but I'm really liking it."

"I'm just full of surprises, I guess," Louis says, and they all laugh.

"Yeah, Louis, I thought it was really good," Simon chimes in. "It's definitely bridal, I can see that in there, but you made it modern and chic enough for the red carpet. I love the ribbon detail at the waist, and you really know how to manipulate the fabric. Well done."

As if Louis isn't already glowing, Zayn seems to appreciate his work as well. "Bro, I thought it was really stunning coming out. If you can pull this out in such a short amount of time, I can't wait to see what you can do with more. Also, I think your tattoos are sick, I don't care what Cheryl says." He winks, and Louis thinks he might keel over.

"Thanks, mate," he manages. Louis passes the rest of the judging and the deliberation in a haze of amazement; he knew he'd done a good job, but to actually have his work validated by people who are such big influences on the industry is a bit surreal. Eventually, they're called back in, and then Louis is declared the winner and granted immunity, and it's all he can do to not scream in celebration. He thanks the judges and heads back to the green room, where he is greeted by a heap of designers all calling out their _congratulations_.

After a few scattered hugs (and a near tackle from Perrie), Louis settles into a seat and lets himself take it in. A few months ago, he was auditioning for the show, and now he's won the first challenge. He's on cloud nine, and nothing could possibly bring him down right now, not even Nick Grimshaw's sour expression. _Fuck the haters,_ he thinks gleefully. _I have immunity._

In that moment, Louis is broken out of his reverie by a gentle pressure on his shoulder. He glances to the side to see Harry's hand gently resting there with something like pride shining in his eyes. The moment passes quickly, though, and Louis would think he'd imagined it were it not for the amount of times he catches Harry looking at him throughout the course of the evening. He doesn't allow himself to think about it, though, choosing instead to bask in the glory of his first win, and to mentally prepare himself for whatever challenge tomorrow will bring.

**Third Challenge**

Louis has two wins under his belt, and when Zayn gives them the details for today's challenge, he's almost certain he'll have a third. Their task is to take inspiration from various parts of New York City; Louis gets assigned Central Park, which is arguably his favorite part of the city he's called home since he first left England three years ago.

Of course, Harry gets Central Park as well, which means that Louis has to deal with him during the whole outing. Except fuck that, because Louis is the master of avoidance. They end up sitting next to each other in the van, but Louis pointedly turns away from the boy and starts chatting with Alexa about where she learned to sew.

It all gets a bit dicey, though, when the van takes a sharp turn and all of a sudden, Harry's entire left side melts into Louis' right. He lets out an involuntary _oof_ at the extra weight, which causes Harry to grin.

"Sorry, hope I didn't suffocate you. You're just a tiny thing, aren't you?"

And okay, what? "I am not _tiny_ , Styles," Louis spits out rather indignantly, wriggling under Harry who is still far too close for comfort. "You're just a giant, I can't help if I'm sitting next to a freakish combination of man and beast!"

Which of course only amuses Harry further. "Right, okay. Whatever you say, Lou."

Alexa eyes them both curiously, and Louis spends the rest of the trip fuming in silence. What cruel twist of fate decided to make the two of them like magnets, anyway, bringing them together no matter how much Louis fights against it? And what the hell is this Lou business? This is not something Louis signed up for, no sir.

Finally, _finally_ , they make it to Central Park. When the door opens, Louis practically launches himself out of there. He puts as much distance between the van (and a certain curly haired hippie) as possible while still remaining in their set perimeter. Each designer has a digital camera and forty-five minutes, and he has work to do.

The late summer air immediately calms Louis' nerves, and he remembers why he loves this place so much. As much as he enjoys the vibrancy of city life, it's nice to have a sort of sanctuary right in the middle of the craziness. He takes the time to meander for a little while, letting the tension that's built up from the first few challenges leave his shoulders. Granted, he has been doing well so far, but it is stressful being in the workroom all day, eating and sleeping at odd hours and sewing like his life depends on it. Even Louis runs out of energy sometimes, and it is nice to relax for a while here amongst nature. Well, as much nature as you can get in a giant metropolis.

As he snaps a few pictures, he can't help glancing around at his fellow designers. They're all scattered throughout the park, but his eyes are immediately drawn to Harry, who for some reason is lying in the grass, arms extended and camera pointed at the sky. Louis shakes his head incredulously, then goes back to shooting close-ups of rose bushes.

All too soon, their driver calls time, and Louis lumbers back to the van with the rest of them. As he approaches, Harry is shaking his hair out in a move Louis has seen him do a hundred times already. Only this time, there are little petals of every color floating out with each shake. As Harry tries to salvage his quiff, Louis scrunches up his face.

"Styles, you are quite literally a flower child."

Harry shrugs as they pile in once again. "What can I say? I'm one with nature."

Louis absolutely does not laugh at that. 

xx

"I look over, and he's just sprawled out on the ground like some Great Dane soaking up the sun. Who even does that?"

Louis is giving another interview, and he somehow finds himself talking about Harry. It's a bit like word vomit at this point, but he can't explain his weird fascination with the kid. "That Styles is something else."

He finishes up soon afterward and exits into the hallway, where Nick is waiting for his turn. Louis gives him a curt nod, registering the strange look that the taller man is giving him. It might be concerning to someone else, but Louis could care less what Nick thinks, and he promptly puts it out of his mind.

If there's one thing the show does not convey on television, it's that the designers actually have a lot more free time than is aired, especially on runway day. But even with the extra time, Louis is infinitely grateful that they received two days to complete this challenge because his design called for a lot of detailed work: he had to cut out several floral appliqués and hand-stitch them individually on the dress. That task alone took much of the first day, and he still had to make sure that the dress itself was impeccably tailored.

Luckily, when his model, Christine, comes back from hair and makeup, Louis puts it on her and it fits perfectly. The blush pink of the fabric looks beautiful against her creamy skin, and the dress flounces lightly when she moves. All in all, an exceptionable piece of work, if he does say so himself. Drawing his eyes away from Christine for a moment, Louis sees Harry's model, and he rolls his eyes. Standing together, the pair look nearly identical from the waist down, shapely legs in trousers that look practically painted on. Completely ridiculous, just like the designer himself. 

"Did you even make anything, Styles, or did you just give the model a pair of your jeans?" Louis means it to be snarky, but it comes out a little fond.

Instead of being offended, Harry lets out his bark of a laugh. "Yeah, they are quite tight, aren't they?" Louis briefly wonders from what planet Harry Styles actually comes from. Seriously, is that boy ever anything but kind?

In the end, Louis' flower-inspired dress grants him his third win in a row, while Harry is declared safe once again. Louis is maybe completely smug about it.

  **Sixth Challenge**

Louis is maybe completely exhausted. 

After starting out strong, he is beginning to falter a little. The challenges are getting more and more grueling, and he is losing his steam. For the past few weeks, he's been nothing but safe, neither top three nor bottom three. Which is fine, in theory, but safe is boring. And Louis may be a lot of things, but boring is not one of them. He is an all-or-nothing kind of individual, and he thinks it's about time for him to put it all out on the line again.

Enter the unconventional challenge. Each season, the designers must make garments out of materials not normally used for clothing. Louis has been looking forward to it with a mixture of excitement and dread. Mostly dread. He's grown used to working with certain fabrics and while his skill set is varied, he doesn't usually venture far from what he's perfected over the years. The idea of stepping out of that particular box scares him a little.

He only grows more apprehensive when Liam takes them to a dollar store. Louis doesn't think he's seen this much cheap plastic since he worked part time at Toys 'R Us to get through uni.

"All right, designers," Liam tells them before they start shopping. "You have a budget of $50 for this challenge. Remember, the judges want to see you stretch yourselves for this one. Now is the time to show your creativity, so try to avoid the amount of cloth-like items you pick. You have twenty minutes. Go!"

They take off in a million different directions, Louis scanning the aisles for something usable. He grabs party supplies, lawn decorations, and even some candy bars. Maybe he can do something with the wrappers, although he'll probably just end up stress-eating it later.

By the end of the whirlwind trip, Louis has no idea what exactly he's purchased, just that it's a bunch of garbage. He can feel a slight panic start to build in his stomach, but he ignores it. He's made it this far, and there's no way he'll be bested by a bunch of sub-par merchandise.

Back at Parsons,  Louis organizes his hoard and tries to make a plan. There are some pinwheels he can maybe deconstruct and layer together to form a skirt, and he thinks the gift bag could be shaped into a bodice. After a quick sketch, he's feeling marginally better about the challenge. Now he only needs to make the dress.

That task proves to be a lot harder than it sounds, though. The windmill skirt is hell to put through the sewing machine; the last time Louis sweat this much was when he played football with his mates back home. When he tries to fit it on Christine, he ends up tearing through an entire tier of the skirt, so he has no choice but to remove it. This probably wouldn't be such a big problem if he hadn't run out of windmills, and since he can't replace the ruined layer, the skirt ends up impossibly short. The bodice proves to be difficult to handle as well because it refuses to lie flat on Christine's body, giving her a weird shape.

Louis knows it's bad, he _knows_ he's in for it on the runway, but what choice does he have? He can't really send a naked model down, and he has no time to start over. He doesn't even have anyone to complain to: Perrie got sent home last week, and it's getting to the point in the competition when designers who once offered friendly advice suddenly have no time for chit chat, too busy trying to outdo each other.

At the end of the night, Louis lingers in the doorway, staring at his dress form.

"It's not that bad." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Louis sighs. He knows that morbid tone all too well. But he hasn't got the time nor the patience to deal with it tonight.

"Fuck it. If I get sent home tomorrow, I get sent home. It is what it is." And without even waiting for a response from Harry, he turns around and follows everyone out of the building.

Sleep comes fitfully for Louis that night, and despite what he told Harry earlier, he isn't ready to go home. At least not without a fight. Yes, his dress is a bit disastrous, but the judges can't say he didn't try. Still, he wakes up with a terrible case of butterflies, and even his hair is giving him trouble — he can barely get his fringe under control before he gives up. Today is just going to be a bad day, he might as well accept it.

Upon arriving at the workroom, Louis is a bit disappointed that the fashion elves didn't come to work their magic on his garment overnight. Looks like he'll have to make do with what he's got. He decks Christine out in some carefully selected accessories, and he keeps it simple with hair and makeup. The materials are already cheap enough — he doesn't need to make it worse with a bright lip and hair out to there.

During the runway show, Louis is considerably more solemn than usual. As Christine walks down, he flinches. It looks even worse in this lighting, and Louis wishes fervently that he could disappear. He isn't even surprised when the judges declare him to be in the bottom three. His critique is maybe the worst experience of his life.

"Quite frankly, it's disastrous," Simon proclaims, and well. At least he's being honest.  "The skirt wouldn't be that bad, but it is about six inches too short. The top of the dress looks like it's about to fall off, the fit is just not there."

"Yeah, Louis, I'm so confused. Normally, you put out such wonderful things. What happened?" Cheryl at least doesn't look like she wants to banish him from her sight, for which Louis is grateful. He tries to come up with a good explanation, then decides to just go with the truth.

"I struggled with this challenge, honestly. I'm not going to make any excuses, I just couldn't give a hundred percent this week." Louis shrugs helplessly, and he wishes he was anywhere but here.

Mercifully, Zayn takes some pity on him. "You know, I can see where you're coming from," he says slowly, examining the dress. "The ideas are there, but the execution just didn't quite get there."

The sad part is that Louis can't disagree. He knows he fucked up. He just hopes they take into account what they've seen him do thus far before they consider kicking him off.

In the end, they let him stay. Apparently his saving grace was that the garment had "potential" and that the styling at least was spot on. Simon warns him, however, not to disappoint them again, and Louis assures him that he will not. After this judging, Louis never wants to feel that way again, and he vows to do everything he can to make sure it doesn't happen again.

To add salt to the wound, Harry ends the night with his first win. Louis wants to make a comment about how of course he won the challenge where they had to make cheap clothes, but he's even too tired to be mean tonight. All he can do is sulk from afar and hate Harry a little for his success when he so clearly failed. And of course, Harry is so delightfully humble about it, which only makes Louis hate him even more.

**Seventh Challenge**

Just when Louis thinks it can't get any worse, Zayn utters two words that make him want to keel over: _team challenge._ He was hoping for a chance to redeem himself, but it's going to be infinitely harder to do so when he has to rely on someone else to get him there.

Apparently they'll be working in pairs, and Louis thinks, _anyone but Styles._ "Okay," Zayn goes on. "Since Harry won the last challenge, he gets to pick his partner first. The rest of you will be matched up using our trusty button bag." He shakes it for good measure before addressing Harry directly. "So Harry, who would you like to work with?"

And if Louis ever doubted that the universe has a sense of humor, he's certainly a believer now, because what comes out of Harry's mouth is, "Yeah, I pick Louis."

 _Awesome_. 

Louis smiles weakly, but it probably comes off more like a grimace. Then he tells himself to grow a pair. This is a competition, dammit; no one said it would be easy. If he has to work with Harry, he's going to make the best of it

Once everyone is paired up, Zayn reveals something else. "You won't be working with your regular models this time. Instead, you have some new clients that are waiting for you in the workroom."

As they make their way down, Harry leans in close, and Louis fights the urge to flinch and run away. "Just so you know, I'm not out to get you," Harry murmurs, much quicker than he normally talks. He sounds almost nervous. "That's why I picked you, actually, because—"

"Sorry, love," Louis cuts him off. "But I don't really care. I just want to get this over with … hang on, is that an _earring_?"

Harry's hand flies to his earlobe. "Oh yeah, it's a clip-on. I bought it on a dare." He chuckles a bit awkwardly, unsure if Louis is making fun of him or not.

"It's very Jack Sparrow," Louis manages, and Harry laughs for real this time.

"Thanks, I think." And the thing is, the whole thing actually suits Harry. The head scarf, the plunging neckline, and the ever-present jeggings somehow come together to make it all work, and that gaudy silver thing suddenly doesn't look so gaudy.

It's possible Louis is in over his head.

Thankfully, they've reached the workroom where Liam is standing amongst a gaggle of women aged twenty and over. Louis barely has time to wonder what the hell is going on when Liam greets them in his cheerful way.

"Hello, designers! So this challenge is a bit of a family affair. Behind me are some lovely mother-daughter duos who volunteered for a makeover. Each team will be assigned a pair and your task is to fulfill all their specifications. The twist? Mom will be helping to design for daughter and vice versa. So you better hope they know each other well. You have thirty minutes to consult and then sketch, after which we will be heading to Mood. Good luck, everybody!" And with that, Liam exits.

It seems that the mothers and daughters have already been assigned, because Louis and Harry are immediately approached by two women with the same olive skin and elegant demeanor. Greta and Ren are opening a restaurant together, and they're having a party to celebrate, which is where the new outfits come in. Harry immediately turns on the charm and Greta, like any good mother, is powerless to resist. That leaves Louis with Ren, who immediately launches into a laundry list of things she wants to see her mom in.

"She's always wearing long skirts and all these bangles like some kind of gypsy," Ren says, and Louis almost snorts. No wonder she latched on to Harry — they probably came from the same commune. "I'd like to see her in something a bit more structured."

"I can do that," Louis assures her. "What about color?"

"Anything bright," Ren says with a smile. "Can't stifle her too much. She's still my mother."

"Fair enough." They shake hands all around and, after Louis and Harry get their measurements, mother and daughter leave arm in arm. As he watches them go, Louis feels a pang for his own family. They've had a few chats on Skype since he started the competition, but it's never enough.

"Makes you miss home, doesn't it?" Harry nods toward Greta and Ren's retreating figures, and Louis is once again thrown by how alike their thoughts are. 

He swallows the lump in his throat. "Yeah," he replies softly. Then he turns to face Harry fully. "Where are you from, anyway?"

It's the first time he has asked Harry something personal, but he figures if they're going to be working together, he should know a little about him.

Harry takes it in stride. "I've been living in L.A. for a year or so, but I grew up in Cheshire. What about you?"

Louis pokes him in the arm. "I'll ask the questions here, Styles," he proclaims in his haughtiest tone, which tugs a smile onto Harry's face. He really is quite pretty when he does that, all sparkly-eyed and dimpled. Trying to ignore the burn of attraction in his stomach, Louis claps his hands together. "Right. What do you have for me?"

Eager to please, Harry shows him a sketch. "Greta says that Ren wears a lot of black, so she wants to see her in something colorful. I was thinking of doing, like, a cocktail dress? But still keeping it quite edgy, because that's what Ren likes."

Louis runs his fingers over the sketchpad. He must be silent for a long time, because Harry starts to fidget. "Well? What do you think?"

He considers dragging out, but decides against it. "I think I love it, actually." 

Harry blinks. "No, really." 

"I'm serious!" Louis cries out, and he is. He always knew Harry was talented, but he didn't really want to admit it until now. The evidence in front of him is clear, though: Harry's design is modern and definitely suits the client. As if to prove he's being truthful, Louis continues. "These lines are really clean. I like the whole vibe of it, I think it'll go well with the jacket I've got in mind for Greta."

If Harry was smiling before, he's absolutely beaming now. He ducks his head at the praise, and Louis has this sudden urge to hug him. He doesn't, though, because he's a professional, and because he refuses to be swept away by the storm that is Harry Styles.

A minor disaster strikes when they get to Mood, and Louis can't find fabric in a color that he likes. He lingers in the linen and the wool, faintly aware that he's running out of time. Just then, Harry comes up behind him and seems to sense his frustration.

"What about white?" he suggests, but Louis shakes his head.

"Ren said to do something bright, not completely devoid of color."

It's Harry's turn to shake his head. "No, I meant you can buy white and then dye it."

Oh. Well, there's an idea. Still, Louis is unsure. "Never actually done that," he admits. There is no way he is going to do something for this challenge that he's never done before. He's on thin ice as it is.

Meanwhile, Harry looks confident. "It's perfect, actually. I can use that with my own design, and it'll pull everything together, it'll be fantastic." Louis must appear as confused as he feels, because Harry says, "Just grab the white and head to the cutting table."

He turns to leave when Louis yells, "Wait, where are you going?"

"Trust me!" Harry calls out, flashing him a thumbs-up and disappearing down some random aisle. Deciding he doesn't really have another option, Louis grabs some white linen-rayon blend and asks for the necessary yardage. He doesn't see Harry again until Liam calls time, when he stumbles to the checkout counter with his bolt of fabric and an armful of mysterious packets. There's excitement in his expression, and despite his doubts, Louis can't help but be affected.

When they return to Parsons, they get right to work. In his whole time on Project Runway, Louis has yet to make pants, which was something the judges have criticized him on before. It appears that this challenge came at the perfect time, then. He's just starting to make his patterns when he hears someone humming nearby. He turns to see Harry bent over the table, completely unaware that Louis has heard him. Normally, Louis likes quiet when he works, and he's about to say so but then he recognizes the tune.

"Is that the Beach Boys?" 

Harry's head snaps up, eyes startled until he registers Louis' words. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

Instead of answering, Louis picks off where he left off. " _I know it's gonna make it that much better, when we can say good night and stayyyyy together_!"

Harry's face is a mixture of shock and delight, and Louis is overcome with the urge to perform. He hasn't felt that way in ages, so he just goes with it. Abandoning his work for a moment, he strikes a dramatic pose, then starts up again. " _Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray, it might come true_."

" _Run, run, whee-ooooh_ ," Harry vocalizes, catching on. His voice is deliciously raspy and low, and he's looking at Louis like he hung the moon and the stars, which only spurs Louis further.

" _Baby, then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't doooo_ ," he sings out, then motions for Harry to start the next part.

" _We could be married!"_

_"And then we'd be happy!"_

_"Wouldn't it be niiiiiiiice?"_  They end on a duet, and Louis can't help but marvel at the fact that their voices actually suit each other. Everyone else in the room seems to agree because suddenly the workroom bursts out in applause. Even Nick begrudgingly joins in, bearing the same expression he gave Louis outside the interview room all those weeks ago. Louis still doesn't know what it means, and he still doesn't care. Right now, he's more than a little embarrassed about his impromptu performance. He has absolutely no clue what came over him, but he gives a little bow anyway, then sweeps his arms over to Harry, who does the same.

Once the commotion dies down, Louis decidedly avoids eye contact and sits down to finish his pattern.

"You have a really nice voice," Harry comments, all quiet and careful as if he isn't sure how Louis is going to react.

He fixes Harry with a glare. "Don't get used to it, Styles." But there's a warmth in his tone that he can't help, and he knows Harry can hear it, too. He doesn't comment on it, though, just goes back to cutting fabric with a small smile on his face. Louis wonders when exactly this strange and beautiful creature got under his skin, then thinks maybe he was screwed from the start.

xx

Hours later, Louis has finished the jacket and is about to start on the pants when Harry walks over. Louis holds his breath while the taller boy examines the seams. His long fingers turn the fabric every which way, and Louis gets a bit distracted tracking his movements, so much so that he almost misses it when Harry speaks.

"I've never seen you do anything like this," he remarks, and Louis feels a bit alarmed until he continues. "It's really beautiful, Louis, you're so good. I'm so glad I picked you to be my partner." The respect and awe is clear in his words that Louis shifts uncomfortably under the attention.

"Right, so do we dye it now?"

Once Harry grabs the packets of dye, they head to the bathroom, Louis' jacket in tow. Since Harry is the expert, Louis is prepared to sit back and watch him work, but Harry regards him over his shoulder.

"Would you like me to teach you?"

Louis shrugs. "If you want." Which Harry correctly deduces to mean _absolutely, a million times yes._ He motions for Louis to come closer and has him empty a dye packet into the sink, which turns the warm water a deep purple color. It turns out that Harry isn't planning on dyeing the whole thing, rather choosing to start at the bottom and have an ombre effect, leaving the top part of the jacket completely white. The effect is really quite stunning, and Louis is impressed with Harry's thought process. As they work, they chat about anything and everything. Louis learns that Harry has an older sister and that his mom is his best friend, which he might've teased him for if he didn't have the exact same relationship with his own mother. After he rambles about his own fleet of sisters, he notices Harry's expression has gone all soft. Louis is suddenly aware of how close they are.

Clearing his throat, he backs up a little. "So now we just hang it to dry?"

A flash of disappointment flashes through Harry's face, but it's gone as soon as it appears. "Yeah, it just needs to dry overnight. Do you mind bringing me the top of my dress? I need to use this dye up." Louis does as he says, and when he returns to the bathroom, Harry shoos him away and tells him to go finish his own work. He almost protests, but there's really no reason for him to stay, and he does need to get started on his pants.

Even so, he finds it hard to tear himself away from Harry's side. He may as well admit it to himself: hating the boy is a lot easier when it's from afar. After actually taking the time to have a conversation with him, Louis finds himself enjoying his company. Sure, his jokes are terrible, but he's smart and caring and his skin is this supple golden skin that makes his bizarre tattoos stand out in the most appealing way.

Settling himself back onto his stool, he remembers what Harry said earlier. _I'm so glad I picked you as my partner._ And he might not admit it out loud, but Louis is just as glad.

xx 

"Perfect! Everything is perfect!"

It's the next day, and they're showing Greta and Ren what they have so far. There's still some work to be done: Louis needs to make a top for Greta, and Harry still has only has half of his dress sewn. It doesn't matter, though, because their designs are solid and, above all, their clients are happy. Louis doesn't even care if they win or not; he knows they've already done their job.

Off to the side, Greta has captured Harry in some random conversation, and Louis is helping Ren out of the partially made dress when she glances in their direction.

"Harry is so hot, oh my God." Ren lets out a tortured sigh as her eyes rake over Harry, who's wearing a V neck that displays his biceps at their finest.

Louis is about to roll his eyes when he freezes. Did he really just describe Harry's biceps as _fine_? Granted, it was in his mind, but he is still horrified.

Ren takes his silence as a cue to go on. She looks back at Louis and huffs out another breath. "Seriously, Louis, how do you even concentrate?"

Before Louis can even process this conversation, let alone formulate a coherent response, Harry's voice comes out of nowhere. "Actually, I'm the one who has trouble concentrating," he says, eyes twinkling like a Disney princess. "Have you seen Lou's cheekbones?"

"Harry's right, sweetheart, don't tell me you haven't noticed those eyelashes." As if Louis isn't already reeling from Harry's comment, he is even more shocked when Greta comes up and pinches his cheek. All right, time to nip this in the bud in the only way he knows how.

Putting his hands up, Louis eyes all three of them. "Yes, we all know how exquisite I am. Now if you lovely ladies will excuse us, Harry and I have work to do!" The women cackle but respect his request, and Louis thinks he's only slightly red when he turns back to Harry.

That's shot to hell, though, when he sees his partner eyeing him curiously. "That's the first time you've called me Harry," he muses, and cue the blush.

"Well, that is your name, isn't it?" Louis stumbles around the words a little, which would be humiliating if Harry's face wasn't glowing with satisfaction. Louis shoves his shoulder and yells at him to get sewing. 

 xx

When Louis and Harry find themselves in the top three, no one is really surprised. Their clothes turned out beautifully, and the judges gush about the dyeing technique they used. Zayn asks each duo who should be declared the winner of the two, and Louis is prepared for the question.

"When Sty-I mean, Harry and I got put together, I was honestly pretty pissed about it." Beside him, Harry stiffens, until Louis puts a reassuring hand on his arm. "But I really misjudged him. Harry is an amazing designer, and he was great to work with. The dyeing was his idea, and I give him full credit for that. He's really patient, and even though he's young, he's got what it takes. And for that, I think Harry should be the winner, and I just want to thank him for giving me a chance."

 In a slight plot twist, they don't end up winning, but Louis doesn't care, because the giant hug Harry envelopes him in when they make their way back to the green room is worth the entire world.

"Thanks for what you said out there," he whispers, and Louis squeezes him back before looking him in the eye.

"I meant it, you know," he says, and he hopes Harry hears everything Louis pours into that statement, things like _thank you_ and _I'm sorry_ and _you're kind of wonderful_. He thinks maybe Harry does, because he pulls Louis in again, more gentle this time.

Perhaps the cherry on top of an already successful evening is that Nick gets sent home, and only the fact that Harry is sad to see him go stops Louis from leaping for joy. Especially when he finds out that Nick was Harry's last roommate, which means that he'll be moving in with Louis and the remaining male designers.

Louis is possibly the happiest he's been since he started this whole thing.

**Twelfth Challenge**

This is it. Number twelve. The last challenge before Fashion Week. Louis can hardly believe he's made it this far, and he knows that it's mostly thanks to Harry. Ever since the team challenge, they've both been infused with a new energy. Not only are they doing well in the challenges, they are practically inseparable, and everyone has noticed. Somehow, they're able to put their friendship aside when it comes time to compete, but every other second is spent laughing or eating or napping together. Louis has no idea how he managed to hate Harry for as long as he did, because now his company is as necessary as breathing.

All the other boys have been eliminated, so it's just the two of them left. Only three designers will make it to Fashion Week, and Louis has to fight off Eleanor and Caroline to get one of the coveted spots. Harry doesn't even count in Louis' mind because of course it's going to be the two of them at the end. Of course, that means he'll have to face off against Harry in the finale, but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. Right now, Louis is focused on making it through this last hurdle.

On the runway, they are greeted by Zayn and Liam, who is holding the button bag. There aren't enough of them to do a team challenge again, so Louis wonders what else is in store for them.

"Good morning, designers," Zayn says. "I want to first of all congratulate you on being the final four. You are the best of the best, and you all deserve to be the last ones standing." There's a brief round of applause before Zayn continues. "But as you know, the road to get here has not been easy, and we're about to throw you another curve. The final test, if you will."

At his words, four young men appear from behind the stage.

"Meet your new clients for this challenge," Zayn proclaims with a smile after they introduce themselves. "These boys are members of up-and-coming band 5 Seconds of Summer, and they need your help to design some tour outfits."

So it's a menswear challenge. Louis can handle that. He's been making his own clothes for years. He glances around at the other designers to gauge their reactions. Caroline looks quietly confident, which makes sense, since she has the most experience out of the group. Eleanor is nervously playing with her hair, but she looks determined. She should be okay. Really, the only person Louis is concerned about is Harry, and for good reason: his eyes have gone wide and his back is ramrod straight. But Louis doesn't have time to process that, because now Liam is talking.

"Okay, designers, so there are four of you and four band members. You know how this goes. I'll pick names out of the bag and then you get to pick who you want to work with." Liam sinks his hand into the bag and pulls out the first name. "Eleanor."

"I pick Calum," she says, and the black-haired boy nods at her. 

Liam goes in for a second name. "Louis. Who do you pick?" 

Scanning the boys again, Louis does some quick thinking. He could go with what's easy and pick someone closer to his shape because that's what he knows. But since it's the last challenge, he figures go big or go home. Plus, he likes the vibe that the tall blond one is giving off, so he makes his decision.

"I'll go with Luke," he says, to which Luke smiles widely.

After they're all matched up, they get a few minutes to consult. Luke tells Louis that his style is pretty laid-back and simple, reminding Louis that he has to be able to move around in his outfit. They settle on a sleeveless top and some patchy jeans that Louis thinks will add to the whole pop rock feel of the band.

On the way to Mood, Louis checks in with Harry, who rambles on and on about how cool Michael is and how he wants to find the band's music because he's sure they will be big soon. Louis pokes Harry's dimple affectionately.

"That's great, Harry, but what about the clothes?"

At that, Harry goes quiet. He starts to roll his bottom lip between his fingers like he does when he's nervous. (Louis is a bit transfixed, if he's being honest.) Still, he can sense that Harry has concerns, so he waits for a response.

"It's just — Lou, I've never really done menswear before," he lets out finally. Those green eyes that Louis has grown to know so well betray a sense of panic, so Louis tries to calm him.

"The proportions are a bit different, but it's not too far off from designing for women," he reassures him. "Just eliminate the curves."

When he says that, the end of Harry's mouth quirks up. He places a gentle hand on Louis' waist, and his touch sends sparks through Louis' body. "But you have curves," Harry points out in a teasing tone, and Louis slaps his arm away.

"Shut up, Haz."

xx 

It's clear once they start on their designs that Harry is floundering. He may be a man himself, but it can be difficult to design for one when you're used to a certain shape. Louis helps him at first, guides him through the pattern-making and reminds him to allow for the crotch and to keep the shoulders wide. Eleanor and Caroline watch them incredulously, as if they can't believe that Louis is helping his competitor.

 _Screw them_ , Louis thinks. Harry is so much more than competition at this point, and Louis would give anything to see him succeed.

As the clock ticks on, however, Harry tells Louis to go back to his own garment. "It's not worth it if you spend all your energy helping me out," he reasons. "There are only a few hours until the end of the day, you've got to finish your own stuff."

"But—" Louis protests, even while Harry steers him away good-naturedly. He runs his knuckles down Louis's cheek, that familiar gleam showing in his eyes.

"You've been so good to me, Louis. And I'm really grateful for that. I'm gonna be fine, though. Really."

With a sigh, Louis does as he's told and goes back to his own table. He tells himself that Harry's right, that he needs to concentrate on himself for a little while in order to get through this round. He only hopes Harry was right about the other part, that he'll be okay with Louis' help.

xx 

Runway day comes too quickly for anyone's liking, and Harry is not okay. Their morning routine is strained, and no matter how many times Louis makes a joke or pulls a funny face in the mirror, he can't get the crease between Harry's eyebrows to disappear. They make it to the doorway when Louis finally can't take it anymore.

"Babe, listen to me." Harry's gaze is directed at the floor, so Louis tucks a finger under his chin. The defeated look on his face nearly breaks Louis's heart in two. He takes a breath before speaking again. "No matter what happens today, Harry, I want you to know how proud of yourself you should be. You've made it this far, and you've got so much potential. Don't forget that, okay?"

Harry's face brightens marginally, so Louis keeps going. "I also want to thank you," he admits. "For giving me a chance. I was a right arse in the beginning to you, and you gave me a second try. So thanks for that."

Those words, it seems, are what Harry needed, because his expression clears. He reaches his hand up to capture Louis' and twines their fingers together. "Doesn't matter if I lose," he murmurs. "I've still got you."

A million emotions well up inside Louis right then, big and bright and a little frightening, to be frank. He puts it all to the side, though. There is still a grueling day ahead of them.

The hours before the show go by in a frenzy of commotion. Louis puts the finishing touches on Luke's jeans and avoids looking over at Harry and Michael. Everyone makes their way to the runway, and Zayn introduces the panel like he always does. Today the guest judge is Irish pop sensation Niall Horan who, judging by his own outfit, doesn't know a thing about fashion but still looks psyched to be there.

Music starts playing and with that, the show begins. Ashton and Calum come through first, and Louis has to admit that the girls did a good job dressing them — they look comfortable and effortlessly cool. Luke is also rocking his look, making Louis proud. He can safely say he at least made clothing that fit and that suit his model.

Then comes Michael, and Louis nearly chews his bottom lip off. It isn't _terrible_ , necessarily. Certainly not for being Harry's first attempt at menswear. But compared to the others, well. It doesn't really compare. The trousers are too loose, and the shirt gapes a bit at the neckline. Harry managed to make a decent jacket, but even that has little mistakes that Louis knows will earn him criticism from the judges. He presses his thigh into Harry's, trying to console him through the gentle touch. Harry pats his knee absently but keeps his eyes straight ahead.

The judges' critiques go as expected, and Harry manages to hold his own. He's always been a favorite among the judges anyway, with his eco-friendly aesthetic and his charismatic personality. With a few cracks at his own expense, he has the judges laughing with him, especially Niall. Still, no one can ignore that Harry's outfit is the weakest of the bunch, and he gets chastised for that.

Before they wrap up, Zayn asks each of them to explain why they should get to go to Fashion Week, and to pick two other designers who deserve the chance along with them. When it's Louis's turn, he has his answer ready.

"Fashion has been a part of my life since I was sixteen," he starts off. "And I've worked so hard to make it here. I auditioned for the show three times and you all finally saw something in me, and I promise I will not disappoint you if I get to the chance to show you my collection." A lump appears in his throat for the next part. "As far as who I want to see there with me… I think the obvious choice is Harry. He's got so many ideas and he knows exactly how to handle his fabrics, and I think his whole hipster, save-the-world concept is very current. I could go on and on about it, but yeah. Harry. I also think Caroline would put on a good show, so I'd pick her, too."

When they get to Harry, he is his usual modest self and keeps his spiel about himself to a minimum. He picks Eleanor first to be at Fashion Week, then glances down the runway at Louis.

"I reckon all of you know who I'm going to say," Harry remarks. "But I think Louis deserves to be there. He's one of the best people I've ever met, and his designs are never fail to amaze me. Either way, he's gonna take the industry by storm, but I think his time is now."

A warm glow spreads from Louis' heart to his toes when Harry finishes. The two of them have come so far, from misplaced resentment to tentative friendship to fierce loyalty. Now they're at the end of the road, and Louis doesn't want it to be over.

The judges dismiss them, and it's the longest deliberation of the entire season. Throughout it all, the four designers sit in the green room in complete silence. The air is tense, and Louis keeps his arm around Harry's shoulder and tangles their legs together.

After what feels like hours, they are called back. Zayn wastes no time, and it takes Louis a few seconds to register that he's named the first designer who will move on, and it's him, he actually did it, he's going to show at New York Fashion Week.

Dazed, he lets out his thank yous, then goes to wait in the green room. Once he comes down from his high, the anxiety sets in. He tries to sit still, but the nerves get to him, and he starts to pace. Shortly afterwards, the door opens, and Louis whips his head up so quickly that he strains his neck.

Eleanor is leaning against the wall and lets out a shaky breath. Ignoring the prickle of disappointment, Louis throws his arms around her in a congratulatory manner. She may not be who he was hoping for, but Eleanor is a good designer, and they've always gotten along pretty well.

"I want him to go too, you know," she says quietly into Louis' jacket, and Louis lets out a chuckle.

"Guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens." He motions to the couch, and they sit together to do just that. The next few minutes are the longest in Louis' life. All of a sudden, the door opens again, and Louis sucks in a gulp of air.

It's Caroline. Which means she rounds out the final three. Which means that it's not Harry.

Not knowing exactly how to react, Louis remains seated while Eleanor goes to hug Caroline. He finally gets up mechanically and does the same, and then Harry comes in the room, and nothing matters but the tears he's clearly holding back. Louis abandons the other girls and launches himself at his boy, who lets out a single sob. They stand like that for a long time, until Liam makes an appearance.

He spreads his arms in a slightly helpless manner. "Well, it's quite a bittersweet moment, isn't it?" And wouldn't you know it, ever-steady Liam Payne looks terribly emotional right then. He quickly composes himself, though. "I want to commend you all on what you've done so far, and I think the three of you will have a great show at Fashion Week. Now, Harry."

"Now, Liam," Harry replies, and they all laugh. Leave it to Harry to make everyone else feel better right now.

"You've accomplished a lot," Liam says sincerely. "And I honestly hoped we would have four designers at Fashion Week this year. Unfortunately, I have to send you to the workroom to clean your space."

Harry shrugs like it's no big deal, and a second round of hugs breaks out. Everyone is sorry to see Harry go, and the girls are more than a little weepy. Even Louis almost loses it, and he usually hates breaking down in front of others. He finds it hard to stay strong, however, when Harry embraces him last and makes it linger.

"You have to win." The words are breathed right in his ear, and Louis can't help but shiver. Before pulling away, Harry plants a kiss on his cheek, then he draws back with a watery grin.

"Good luck to all you," Harry says through his sniffles. "You're all wonderful."

A chorus of _bye, Harry_ s and _we love you_ s rings out, and then he's gone.

Later, as Louis is gathering his things and the events of the day fully sink in, he steels himself for what is still coming. If his drive to win was strong before, it's even more so now. He owes it to his family, to himself, and most of all, to Harry. Louis makes a promise to himself that he will do whatever it takes to win. For both of them.

 **The Finale**  

Six weeks. It's been six long weeks since Louis returned to his apartment and started work on his collection. Outside of making runs to the fabric store or other related errands, he hasn't left the house at all. His entire life has been consumed with this collection.

Well. That, and Harry.

They exchanged numbers before leaving the show, and despite living on opposite ends of the country, he's almost the sole source of Louis' human contact nowadays. Granted, Louis can't Skype quite as much as he could at first (Harry's face is far too distracting), but he still gets encouraging little texts throughout the day, with a million x's attached.

Harry keeps begging to see the collection, but Louis isn't having it. He knows that Harry has a ticket to the show, so he wants to keep it a surprise. Mostly, he's afraid if he shows Harry what he's done, it'll be completely obvious where his inspiration came from, and Louis isn't sure how he'll react.

Because the thing is, his biggest inspiration was Harry. In their time together, Louis became fascinated by Harry's explanation of sustainable fashion, and so most of his fabrics are either recycled or some form of environmentally friendly. As is tradition, Liam came by Louis's place recently to see what he had so far, and he commented on it. Louis danced around the subject, but they could both tell how much a certain designer had influenced the collection.

Even so, Liam told him that the work was beautiful and still true to Louis's aesthetic. And now, the day Louis has been anticipating for months (years, even) has arrived. He's backstage at the Lincoln Center, and in just under an hour, his clothes will walk the runway. It's the biggest moment of his career, and Louis doesn't know if he wants to scream with delight or with agony. Probably both.

It's been ages since he checked his phone, and he swallows the urge to do so now. After confirming that his mom and oldest sister made it in safely and found the venue, he made the decision to silence it. Right now, the outside world didn't matter. It was time to buckle down and get serious, and there is no room in Louis' schedule to check for text messages from stupidly charming boys.

Louis has the third slot of the finalists, which means he has to torture himself silently as he watches Eleanor and Caroline show off their creations. He's confident in what he's made, though; the girls might be good, but Louis knows that he'll give them a run for their money.

At long last, Liam is ushering him onstage. Somebody hands him a microphone and oh, right, he has to introduce his collection. He wrote a speech and everything, he knows he did. But the lights are so bright and there are _so many people here_. Every thought flies out of Louis' head, and he stands there for a few moments, totally lost.

Then he spots a familiar face in the front row, and everything goes still. Because that sad excuse for a quiff is familiar, and so is that dimpled smile. Absently, Louis wonders how Harry managed to get that seat, because he knows for a fact that those are usually reserved months in advance. He takes comfort in the fact that he isn't the only one who can't resist Harry Styles, and he suddenly knows exactly what to say. 

"I knew this hipster type once," he begins, and there are thousands of people in the room, but it feels like he's only talking to one. The most important one. "He taught me the power of green, both the color and the sustainable kind. So this is for the dirty hipsters." 

Louis catches a final glimpse of Harry's face before he goes backstage, and he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone shine so bright. He moves to stand by Liam and watches his collection walk down the runway. As he stares at the screen, everything else, including Harry, fades to the background. All Louis can do is watch the work of the past six weeks process before him. It's raw and modern, it's tough and it's beautiful. Above all, it's him, he's put his heart and soul into it and he's fulfilling his lifelong dream.

He doesn't cry. He doesn't.

Christine makes her way down the runway in the finale dress just then, and if Louis had to pick a favorite, that gown would be it. He can't help it, because it's another hint of Harry, since he ended up using the dip-dyeing technique he taught Louis when they first bonded. As the models parade onto the runway for a final walk-through, Louis walks out hand-in-hand with Christine, letting go at the last minute to blow a quick kiss at Harry. He passes by too quickly to be sure, but he thinks there might be tears in Harry's eyes as he shakes his head, his applause ringing out above the rest. 

xx

The panel is intense. There's no guest judge this time, just Cheryl, Simon, and Zayn ripping them apart as usual. Everyone receives glowing remarks, but they also get their fair share of criticism. It's all a bit much, and Louis once again finds himself in the green room awaiting his fate.

"I'm glad it was us," Eleanor pipes up finally. "Personally, I think we all smashed it, and I'd be happy if any of us won."

Louis smiles at her sweetness, and he finds that he shares her sentiment. He did what he came to do. The rest is up to the judges.

That doesn't mean his stomach isn't in knots when they get called back in. As per usual, Zayn's face is completely blank, and he tells them how well they've all done. _Get to the point,_ Louis can't help thinking, and he thinks for a second that he spoke out loud, because Zayn winks at him.

"You all put on a great show," he says. "And this was a really difficult decision. But in the end, it was unanimous. The winner of Project Runway is … Louis Tomlinson."

Louis' body reacts before his mind catches up, his knees buckling. "Oh my God," he chokes out.

Zayn beams at him. "Congratulations, Louis. You've won!"

"Oh my God," Louis says again, and this time, it comes out more like a sob. The room goes a bit blurry, and he's vaguely aware of receiving hugs from everyone around. Simon claps him soundly on the back, and Cheryl, Eleanor, and Caroline all peck him on the cheek.

Someone tackles him in a fierce embrace, and Louis finds himself surrounded by his family. "I knew you would win!" cries Lottie, and his mom pinches his cheeks and tells him how proud she is of him.

It's perfect, it's everything he's ever wanted… and all Louis can think is _I wish Harry was here with me right now._

As if on cue, he hears a throat clearing behind him. He whips around and there is his boy, looking incredibly dashing in a suit. Words escape Louis briefly, and when he can speak again, it's only to ask, "How?"

Harry shrugs. "They would only let family back here, so I told them I was your boyfriend." He shoves his hands in his pockets, and Louis is so incredibly in love with him. "Hope that was alright."

As much as his heart swells and threatens to burst at that statement, Louis wouldn't be Louis if he didn't give him shit for it, so he says, "You just said that because I'm rich and successful now."

To which Harry answers with an exaggerated eye roll. "Of course. It's my lifelong dream to be a trophy husband."

And maybe the word _husband_ should make Louis panic — after all, they've only really known each other for a few months — but all it does is make Louis picture Harry in his apartment, Harry in his kitchen, Harry in his bed, and he really wants to kiss him right now.

"That might be a bit difficult," Louis points out, "seeing as you live across the country." He throws some humor in his tone, but the unspoken question hangs between them. They've been inching toward each other during the whole exchange, until they're practically two breaths apart.

Harry smiles gently and cups Louis' face in his hands. "I might love L.A.," he says. "But I think I love you even more."

That is Louis' cue. He goes on tip-toe (Christ, Harry is _tall_ ) and kisses him in front of everyone. It's a little messy but a lot sweet, and their mouths slide against each other like they were made for it. Louis hears the sound of cheering and he thinks Liam whispers something like "finally," but he's too wrapped up in this moment to care.

There are still a lot of details to be figured out, a lot of conversations to be had, but right now, all Louis and Harry can say to each other is a mixture of "thank you" and "I love you" and "I'm so proud of you" and "bloody fucking hell, I just won Project Runway."

xx

(Months later, they're spending their first weekend in a shared apartment in New York when they decide to watch the whole season back. Harry ribs Louis for going on and on about him in the early solo interviews. 

"Thought you were meant to hate my very being," Harry says, and Louis shuts him up with a kiss and a slap to the chest.

"Shut up, Styles."

"I love you, Lou."

"Love you, too.")

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these challenges were actually featured on the show, so all credit goes to Project Runway and its creators. Also, because I get so invested in my writings, a few of the designs I wrote about were products of some rather pointless research. So in case anyone's interested: Louis' creations for the [first](http://www.onewed.com/photos/show/2013-wedding-dresses-carol-hannah-of-project-runway-romantic-bridal-gowns-2) and [third](http://glamazonsblog.com/wp-content/uploads/christian-siriano-new-york-fashion-week-spring-2013.jpg) challenges, as well as for the [finale](http://glitterinc.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/orange-cream-dip-dyed-wedding-dress-swing-basket.jpg) all exist, so check those out if you're curious :)


End file.
